Page 21 of Worth Your Wild

Whit wrings his hands. “We can’t have our viral sensation getting too injured to perform tonight,” he says, followed by a long pause.

“Perform?” me and Deke exclaim simultaneously. “Again?”

The manager laughs nervously. “I didn’t mention that?”

EIGHT

Deke

I am not in a good mood.

This might actually be the worst mood of my life—and that is saying something considering I am rarely anything but pissed the hell off. But I started this morning trying to let June down gently and it backfired like nothing has ever backfired before. Now all I can think about is her naked in rumpled sheets, smiling up at another man. A new Daddy.

It’s gutting me just to imagine it. June with anyone but me.

My insides have been on fire since she suggested she’ll find someone else.

And I have no right to be this…sick to my stomach. None at all. I’m the one who decided our relationship would start and end with one night. That’s the right thing to do for June. I am doing her a favor. Setting free a beautiful young girl with her whole future ahead.

I just had no idea doing the selfless thing would be so agonizing.

On top of this nonstop churning and sense of loss inside of me, June had to go and get accosted by a crowd of overzealous fans. I’ve never been more scared in my goddamn life as when she fell and disappeared among the throng of people. She could have been trampled. Or gotten a head injury. My June Bug.

Jesus, I need to stop thinking of her like that.

Which is going to be hard if she’s performing with me again tonight.

Looking up at me with those beautiful green eyes on stage, like I’m her savior.

I’m craving the moment. I’m dreading the moment.

I don’t want her to leave the tour when Sandy comes back.

I also desperately need her to go home, so I can go back to being a mean, solitary drunk that nobody can reach. Things were just fine before she came.

No, they weren’t.

You haven’t been fine in a long time.

It’s never been more obvious that I’ve been dead inside, because she’s challenging the numbness I’ve become trapped inside of. She’s a light in the darkness.

A light that I cannot follow out of the cave, as much as I want to.

I’d just snuff it out. That’s what I do. I wrote albums that became the soundtracks to people’s lives. Their favorite songs. And then I began disappointing them. I released tracks that didn’t resonate. I let them down. I let everyone down. I’ll do it with June, too.

Now, I stand in the parking lot behind the hotel, watching as two tour buses pull in, eliciting cheers from the crew, because it’s a signal that we won’t have to cram ourselves onto one bus for this leg of the trip. Meaning I won’t be required to sit beside June.

Great.

Awesome.

I’ll drink myself into a stupor in peace.

That’s my plan until I catch sight of June on the other side of the lot. She’s standing alone with headphones in her ear. I’m itching to cross the expanse of asphalt and ask what she’s listening to, but I need to start distancing myself. Otherwise, she’s going to end up back in my bed tonight. With those pretty legs spread, demanding those deep, wet kisses while I fuck her silly. God, she took my dick so incredibly well, despite her tightness and inexperience. I can still feel that final mind-blowing wrench of her cunt and all the wetness that followed. What else do good girls do?

A series of erotic snapshots from last night causes blood to flow south to my cock, lifting the heavy length against the zipper of my jeans. As if she senses I’ve got an erection for her, June lifts her head, giving me a fleeting but curious glance across the parking lot, then goes back to scrolling her phone.

“June sure is something, isn’t she?” says Whit to my left, whistling under his breath.